


one for the road

by rojohbi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Friends to Lovers, Genderfluid Sirius Black, M/M, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 17:05:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9451505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rojohbi/pseuds/rojohbi
Summary: Piling into the car was uncomfortable and cramped, but there was something oddly satisfying about sitting on ratty blankets in the backseat, a box of fresh comfort food at his feet and Sirius’ legs splayed over his lap as the other backseat-inhabitant nestled himself into the corner and almost immediately began snoring. James met his eyes through the rearview, and this time when he saw the knowing smile, Remus smiled right back.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first thing ive written in...a REALLY long time wow. like, at least a couple years. zoinks
> 
> it is unbetad, so ill probably reread and edit it later (BUT if youd like to do that for me please. please do i'd literally write u smth). i also wrote the first section a while ago and then just continued with it so sorry if it's a little disjointed!!
> 
> the title is from one for the road by dodie clark, which has nothing to do with the theme but is a great song
> 
> also, warning for q-slur but only once and by a gay person so. yknow. context
> 
> hope u enjoy!!! thank you for reading

__

His first instinct, when Sirius suggested it, was a firm _no_. No because he had work that week, and he couldn’t lose another job over a _road trip_. No because he couldn’t skip that much study time, though he was perfectly ready for his classes and had weeks until they started again. No because it’s four of them crammed into a little beater and he couldn’t even begin to imagine what different kinds of fresh hell they would all manage to get into.

 

And yet, Remus had never been good at saying no to Sirius. Not for long, anyways.

 

From then, it was just fueling the car and calling off work for sick mothers, sick brothers, and dead cousins. The last one was Sirius, and he flashed a grin as the rest of them winced a bit at the unnecessary extreme.

 

“It’s funny,” he supplied as he ended the call and shrugged, his shirt slipping further off one shoulder. It was made of a soft gray-blue material that hung on him nicely and didn’t quite reach the waist of his jeans, and Remus couldn’t look away from the exposed swathes of skin. “It’s how I’d prefer Bellatrix anyways.”

 

It seemed that Remus was the only one they were worried about agreeing - Peter and Sirius both had already spread their things haphazardly around James’ foyer, half in and out of bags. Even Lily, who had _in no uncertain terms_ stated that she wasn’t coming along, was already tucked into the couch when he arrived, chatting with Mrs. Potter while her fingers toyed with the two week-old ring on her finger.

 

(He had been the first one she’d come to, staring at the green gems in awe and just shaking for a long time in the doorway of his flat. Remus made her tea and cookies and they watched her favorite kitschy American movies from college abroad until Sirius came home from work and promptly joined them. Sirius was much better suited for appreciating the ring for what it was, and they fawned and giggled and Remus watched fondly from behind his tea, content. It felt like the kind of happy he’d been waiting for.)

 

Packing the car was an ordeal in and of itself. The 1976 Volkswagen Golf was in decent shape, but it was hardly the ‘ _Blokes-Mobile_ ’ that James had been attempting to dub it for years, now with renewed vigor.

 

“Y’know that sounds pretty queer, though, don’t you?” Sirius looked up from trying to jam all the bags into the trunk along with the non-perishables they’d stocked, running fingers through his mussed hair. James sputtered indignantly. “You finally change your mind, James? Taking after me? You’d better tell Lily soon, before she-” James cut him off by tackling him, and they ended up with a sore wrist (James), a yanked shoulder (Sirius), and two scraped cheeks between the two of them. Peter and Remus had already lapsed into idle conversation, long since having learned that interfering did little to help, and everything to get you beat up just as much as the duo.

 

“Pretty defensive there, Prongs,” Sirius wheezed as he brushed himself off. “Maybe you really are a total pouf.”

 

James cuffed him upside the head, nearly resulting in another scuffle. “Rather _be_ a girl’s blouse than wear one.”

 

“I look great in girl’s blouses!” Sirius gestured to himself insistently, the midriff top fluttering with the movement. Though strongly agreeing, Remus stayed quiet, sipping at the travel mug of tea that was mostly just for keeping his hands warm anymore.

 

“I never said you didn’t,” James sighed, rolling his eyes as if Sirius were the only one being ridiculous. “Just confused at how you like them.”

 

“The same way girls like them, you wanker. Because I’m a _girl_.”

 

“Yes, I _know_ , but they’re so - so -” James waved his hands around, obviously struggling. Pete and Remus were both laughing at that point in the exchange, making little attempt to stifle themselves. “They’re so _breezy_.”

 

Sirius grinned wildly. James groaned.

 

“Alright, both of you, come on,” Remus chided, chuckling warmly as he stepped between the two of them. “James, you don’t ask Lily why she likes them, so don’t ask Sirius. Sirius, you look lovely, and though James is a twat, I know you know he means well.” Remus ignored the outraged noise of protest from James and put an arm around both of their shoulders, a good head on the two in height. “Twats and clothing notwithstanding, I would personally like to leave before it gets dark.”

 

“Or starts raining,” added Peter, glancing balefully at the sky. The other three nodded solemnly in agreement before getting back to work.

 

Getting the car loaded was a bit easier when the four were actually working together, and Lily came out with a box in hand when they had all finished.

 

“The first stretch is going to be the hardest.” Holding the box out to the group, he realized it was full of snacks and food, all probably baked by her and Euphemia. James but positively beaming, and kissed his fiancée on the cheek, earning a hair ruffle and a fond smile in return.

 

The four of them chorused their enthusiastic thanks, Remus smacking Peter’s hand when he went for some of the cookies in a little zip bag. Peter grumbled, Sirius laughed, and it felt so full of promise that Remus couldn’t help the grin that lit his face, hiding it behind a fist as he cleared his throat. He was just - he was happy. This felt right. When he looked up, Sirius was already looking at him, a curious little twist in his lips. Remus did _not_ turn any sort of color other than his usual one, thank you _very_ much, and there was a laugh behind him as he turned on his heel that made his back tense a bit in nervousness. James came around him to get into the car and clapped Remus on the shoulder as he passed, giving him a knowing smile before yanking the broken door out and plopping behind the door with a certain Potter sort of grace.

 

James had always been much more astute than he comes across as, despite the countless head traumas from his and Sirius’ rather barbaric siblingship. He’d seen Remus staring a little too intently on more than one occasion, and that was it. No confrontation, no issue. Not even a brotherly warning. No, James would just watch intently as Sirius flirts relentlessly with anything that moves, and Remus stands just far enough behind him that there’s no risk of Sirius seeing the way his teeth grit together with mild annoyance.

 

It’s appreciated, of course – Remus hasn’t even technically come out to the lot of them. Mostly because he’s never really been interested in anyone but Sirius. He’d had a boyfriend for a short time while they were all still at school, but that was kept as quiet as possible as a boys’ boarding school wasn’t quite, uh. Well. Teenage boys didn’t think terribly much, let alone about things they’d rather not have to think about.

 

But now, just broaching twenty-two and still pining as quietly as possible, James seemed content to let him keep his little secret as long as he liked with no judgement or comment whatsoever. And if sometimes that curious expression seemed less like observation and more like waiting for something-or-other to happen, well, Remus was just glad he didn’t have to have a chat about his dirty laundry.

 

Piling into the car was uncomfortable and cramped, but there was something oddly satisfying about sitting on ratty blankets in the backseat, a box of fresh comfort food at his feet and Sirius’ legs splayed over his lap as the other backseat-inhabitant nestled himself into the corner and almost immediately began snoring. Remus held the thin ankle exposed from the ill-fitting torn jeans Sirius always wore, and laughed softly at the sight of Sirius’ hair whipping around his head where it rested against the half-open window. James met his eyes through the rearview, and this time when he saw the knowing smile, Remus smiled right back.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

He woke suddenly to soft (and rather horrible-smelling) breath in his face and something very cold on his forehead. Remus jerked, surprised, and Sirius toppled partly out of his lap and into the gap between the backseat and the center console of the car with a loud yelp. The complaining that quickly followed was nearly drowned out by James’ raucous laughter from outside the window. Remus patted around for his glasses, still not quite sure what was going on.

 

“Fucking – shove it, Prongs! Ugh, was such a masterpiece, too.” Sirius was pouting, clambering back onto the seat to throw something through the window at James, who only laughed harder as it dinged against metal and then hit the ground. Still mostly asleep and rather blind, Remus just squinted at the pair with a complaint that accidentally just came out as a tired mumble.

 

Sirius looked over, mouth open for what was surely a biting comment, but the blurry form went rigid the moment he turned. Remus was mid-yawn, one hand rubbing at his eye and the other still patting around for his missing glasses. As he went bent down to glance at the floor the frames plopped down crooked on his nose, and Remus jumped, startled. He smiled sheepishly as he fixed the frames, glancing at Sirius to see that he was watching blank-faced. Sirius’ jaw twitched, just barely, and then he broke into a laugh just before the silence pressed into discomfort. Looking out the window, Remus realized they were getting petrol, James’ hand on the pump and the other on the roof of the car as his eyes had narrowed at Sirius. When James looked back at Remus, the tension in his face evaporated as he began guffawing yet again, doubling over.

 

Confused, Remus looked back and forth between the two of them before shoving past Sirius (also cackling) to look at himself in the rearview – to find a truly well-drawn dick on his forehead, with one streak of marker across it, presumably from when Remus had awoken.

 

“Sirius, you absolute – is this permanent?” Turning back to look at the culprit, Sirius was red-faced and trying desperately to swallow laughter. A marker arched across his vision as James tossed it back into the car, and there was a moment’s pause before the both of them dove after it, ending up a tangle of thrown knees and elbows, the pained grunts and laughing while Remus sought his revenge shaking the car enough to wake Peter from the dead with a snort.

 

The other three burst again, marker forgotten, as Peter glanced around blearily at his laughter friends. “Wha? What happened?”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Sometime around four in the morning, on an empty country road, Remus pulled to the side to take a moment to breathe.

 

He and James (the only respectable drivers of the four) had switched off a few hours ago, but they were two days into the trip in the middle of nowhere. The other three were dead asleep, Peter and Sirius curled up in the back amid a blanket and cookie crumb mountain and James bent oddly into the passenger seat, knees against the dash and slumped into a curve that was sure to hurt whenever he woke. Shoes and petrol receipts littered the car floor like a nomad’s confetti, and Remus made sure to keep the car in close sight as he quietly shut the door and crested the hill, a blanket and a granola bar tucked under one arm. The hill spread low into a wide lake, trees cresting the shore across the dark water, and Remus wrapped the blanket around himself and sat cross-legged in the grass to watch small rings ripple the lakes surface in silence. He dug a crushed pack of cigarettes from his jeans, lighting one and sighing smoke into the dark.

 

The sky had only just begun to shift from navy to a brightening grey when he heard footsteps behind him. Remus didn’t turn though, just tightened the blanket around him and took a drag, filling his lungs with cool morning air and foggy relief as his eyes shut, basking.

 

Sirius sat himself down in the grass, holding out a cold cup of coffee that Remus gladly took. Grabbing at the blanket, Sirius wrapped himself up in it as well, pressing them together from shoulder to thigh as the sun pressed against the horizon. Orange spread into the clouds, pinks peeking through the gaps of the dawn sky, and Sirius plucked the cigarette from his fingers, taking a pull and exhaling through his nose, eyes closed in a familiar relief. This was something only the two of them shared – James and Peter knew, of course. They’d all smoked as rebellious teenagers. But now, it was something only the two of them continued, this double-edged relief like some self-deprecating joke. The four of them were inseparable, but Remus had always felt something a little different for Sirius, even before the difference was a matter of the heart. There is something to be said for people who never had a home, who had to make one of their own. And when those handmade homes crumbled or burned, as so often they would, sometimes it comes to simply deciding not believing in home anymore.

 

Sirius rested his head against Remus’ shoulder, warm and familiar, smoke drifting through his vision as they passed the cigarette back and forth and lit another when red of its ember went dark. The sun rose slowly and steadily, and they did not speak nor move until the car horn split the silence, the pair turning to see James hanging out the window.

 

“Let’s get a move on, wankers! We’re wasting daylight!”

 

The two shared a laugh, locking eyes for a moment. Sirius’ ever-coy expression softened into something secret and sure, but before Remus could get even a word out he jumped up, tossing the long-dead stub of cigarette into the water bank below and earning a frown for it, which he waved off.

 

“We’re coming, asshole! And you’re driving!”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Days passed, and passed, and it hardly felt real. They drifted from place to place, from rolling plains to towering cities to ragged cliff edges. Despite feeling like something of a ghost, incorporeal as the wind and passing through walls he didn’t even know he had, Remus felt more alive than before. There was a charm to being untethered and unlimited, and his handful of fears had yet to come to bear even after three weeks of travel.

 

The first – that he would feel alone in the great beyond. But he was with people he loved dearly, and so there was no chance to shutter himself off even if he’d wanted to. The second – that it would all be too much, the lack of foundation beneath his worn sneakers leaving him with nothing to stand on. Nowhere to escape and nowhere to accidentally overthink. But the car itself and the three other men inside of it – that was enough to ground him, to make it feel like the right thing to do.

 

All his other fears felt like nothing once those were proven wrong.

 

Something light and whirling was building in his chest, weightless enough to make him feel inches off the ground any time he opened his eyes to see that it was all real. That it wasn’t just a dream propelling him into a false sense of wanderlust. Every laugh and snore and beaming grin was real, just the four of them on the road with nowhere to be, lives hundreds of miles behind them and the rusting Blokes-Mobile.

 

(The first time he called it that aloud, James smiled so wide Remus almost wondered if it hurt.)

 

The gas pedal under his foot felt like pure freedom, and there was a part of Remus that wondered if this was the best thing that ever happened to him.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Somewhere far south from where they’d started, Remus sat on a rock ledge with his jeans rolled halfway up his calves, feet dipped into warm water and a bottle of shit, convenience mart-butterbeer balanced beside him. The sun was setting in gold and pink tones that cast a warm brush over everything it touched from the northern horizon to the southern one. James and Peter had gone back to the car to rummage for food, but Sirius hung back, sitting on the other side of Remus with his head leaned back to watch the first stars peek out despite the sun still coloring the landscape.

 

It was a sight to see, really – the rose light turned Sirius’ dark skin like a sunburn, cascading over the column of his throat and the little curve of exposed collarbone. Remus bit the tip of his tongue, like it could possibly suffice for the dusty skin in the corner of his vision, as if focusing on the twinge of pain could distract him from all the things building in his cowardly heart. It was a shame, really – Remus had countless thoughts a day about brushing fingers over any single inch of skin shown from the loose and cropped shirts Sirius always wore, the ripped jeans and shorts and sundresses with lace trim. The weightless little thing in his heart collapsed in a sudden, urgent realization of exactly what he was doing. The obsession and the compulsion, and like a spark of flame Remus burst with the realization that there is nothing to be found in the rabbit hole of loving someone so close to your chest that they can break your ribs with a whisper.

 

Remus grit his teeth and glanced back at Sirius, unmoved and unaware, and he lit a cigarette to finalize the decision. The acrid taste of smoke pulled his feet back down to the stone, the scant inches of wanderlust scattering to the wind.

 

Taking a swig of shit beer and biting down hard enough on his lip to make it bleed, he did not offer the cigarette to Sirius. Remus just closed his eyes, took a drag, and let the smoke burn on the exhale.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

A week had passed on their loop back around towards home, and Remus had been doing everything he could think of to stamp out the spark of affection in him. He found, of course, that that wasn’t quite how it worked.

 

You can stamp out a crush. It is harder to stamp out a years-long love for one of your childhood best friends.

 

It twists like a living thing, but Remus was determined. He couldn’t have the feelings – couldn’t allow himself to harbor such a secret, unfair to them both. So, he did all he could. Avoided touches and shared cigarettes in the dark, no more building warmth under blankets or staring off into the burning sky to dream of things that wouldn’t happen. It didn’t do much but make Remus being to miss someone right beside him, but maybe that was just part of the process. That was how he rationalized it, at least.

 

“Remus,” James started one night, when the other two were dead asleep in the back and the still-awake pair had just switched to put Potter behind the wheel. Remus closed his eyes, the stern tone to James’ voice giving him a hint of what he might be bringing up. Looking over to meet James’ eyes, Remus didn’t reply, just waited for him to go on.

 

Shaking his head with the slightest touch of a bemused curve to his lips, James wrung the worn steering wheel cover, knuckles white. “He’s noticed, you know. That you’re distancing yourself. He thinks he did something wrong.” Remus grit his teeth, looking back out the window as his arms crossed over his chest. As if that could even begin to calm the fervid thrum of his heart. “I told him that he could never do anything wrong in your eyes. Sirius just laughed in my face.”

 

When Remus still didn’t reply, James looked at him for as long as he could manage before turning back to the road with a sigh. “You should t-“

 

“I’m not telling him.” It’s firm and cold, and James let out a groan of frustration in response.

 

“Why, Moony? This is fucking stupid. Just talk about it.”

 

“He doesn’t deserve that.”

 

“Doesn’t deserve- Lupin, what are you even on about?”

 

“He doesn’t deserve having to take pity on some poor idiot whose been in love with him since we were kids,” Remus snapped, whipping back around to look at James. “Everything’s fine as it is. I’ll get over it, he won’t ever have to know, and then everyone gets to live happily ever after, right?”

 

James had a tension in his jaw that didn’t match the sudden melancholy (pity, Remus read, always pity) in his eyes. “But not you.”

 

The laugh he let out tasted like the kind of bitter he’d known as a close friend before they’d driven off with no destination. There was something oddly comforting at stepping back into broken-in shoes, done feeling the grass between his toes and satisfied with the confirmation that he knows exactly who he is and where he stands, just as he always has. “No,” Remus agreed. “Not me.”

 

He leaned back in the seat, turning back to the window once more to the star-dotted sky. A different glint caught his attention, though – one of gray eyes in the rearview mirror from where it reflected the backseat, very wide and very clearly belonging to someone who heard a good deal of the exchange.

 

Remus felt sick.

 

“Let me out of the car.” James looked at him in shock and confusion, braking instinctively but questioning nonetheless.

 

“What? Why?”

 

“Just – please, just stop. Just stop.”

 

Maybe it was the panic in his face, or maybe it was just that Remus probably looked about to hurl, but James parked on shoulder of the road. The moment they’d reached a full standstill, Remus bolted.

 

It was cold and damp with dew and Remus could barely even see, just dropped to the ground once he felt far enough away. Shaking hands lit a cigarette, the last one in the crumpled pack, and Remus pressed his head into his knees. Of course, _of course_ – they were only a few days from home, and everything would’ve been fine. Could’ve gotten off scot-free. Could’ve tucked himself into his couch and rebuilt himself, gone to work each day and buried the feelings with every other possible burden he could take on.

 

The smoke always burned, and he always ruined perfectly good things. Facts of life, as it were.

 

He could hear footsteps approaching, but Remus didn’t lift his head. He stayed curled into himself and hoped to every god he could think of that he would get anger over pity, confusion over disgust. It was like a riot in his gut, and when there was a plop of someone sitting in front of him and taking the cigarette from his fingers, the riot went still as if waiting to hear what would happen.

 

“That was, very possibly, some of the stupidest shit you’ve ever spouted in your life, Lupin.” Sirius’ voice was, oddly enough, soft and shaking. Remus didn’t dare look up yet, but he listened closely as there was a whisper of burning paper and then a heavy exhale, followed by a sniff. “You don’t get to decide what I fucking deserve. You don’t pick that. I pick that. And you know what I deserve?” Another pause, another in-out-sniff. “I deserve to know that someone I’ve been in love with for ages has been in the same place as me for just as long.”

 

Remus felt every muscle in him tense involuntarily, and with that his head shot up of its own volition. He was met with a red-faced Sirius, eyes wet with tears and pulling at the cigarette like it would power him to speak again. The free hand reached up, hesitating before resting on Remus’ jaw, gently as a feather. Sirius laughed a little, stamping out the filter on the ground and then wiping his face with the same hand, sleeve of his jumper pulled down past his trembling fingers. Remus didn’t have the heart to give him any shit for it.

 

“Sometimes I forget that for all that you love books and tea and sock hoarding, you really don’t love yourself very much.” Sirius broke out into a watery grin, leaning into Remus’ space to kiss the tip of his nose, fleeting and light. “ ‘Salright. I can love you more than enough for the time being.”

 

“You can’t mean that.” Remus whispered it into the bubble of space between them, eyebrows furrowed and eyes not quite meeting the other’s. Sirius scoffed at that, earning a sharp glance for it.

 

“I can mean whatever the hell I want,” he countered, and then he was kissing Remus and that was, just. Really. Sort of.

 

Well.

 

Sometimes feeling the grass between your toes is pretty great. Even if you never thought you’d get the chance.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at [rojohbi](http://www.rojohbi.tumblr.com)!!


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